


red tape

by rudimentaryflair



Series: AELDWS 2020 [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Noir, Detective!Eames, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, crime lord!arthur, hey i actually like what i wrote this week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudimentaryflair/pseuds/rudimentaryflair
Summary: The entrance to the criminal underbelly of Newark is in the back of the old sandwich shop on 17th Avenue. Personally, Eames had expected something more nefarious, with chains hanging from the ceiling, but he’d always had a bit of the flair for the dramatic.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: AELDWS 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828894
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15





	red tape

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Week 3 of the AELDWS 2020 challenge
> 
> Prompt: "Don't look back."  
> Genre: Noir  
> Word Count: Exactly 300

The entrance to the criminal underbelly of Newark is in the back of the old sandwich shop on 17th Avenue. Personally, Eames had expected something more nefarious, with chains hanging from the ceiling, but he’d always had a bit of the flair for the dramatic.

Arthur’s office is made of clean, sleek lines, much like Arthur himself, and Eames, in his rumpled trench coat and deerstalker, feels even more out of place than he already does.

“Mr. Eames,” Arthur says, steepling his fingers. “Care to explain why I found you poking around my establishment?” He says it like he’s the esteemed proprietor of an elaborate mansion and not the kingpin of New Jersey’s underworld. For some reason, this amuses Eames.

“I’m a detective, darling. Poking around’s in the job description.”

“I believe subtlety is also in the job description,” Arthur says.

Eames smirks. “I never said I was a good detective.” Good detectives generally didn’t fraternize with the people they were supposed to catch.

Arthur sighs, longsuffering, but Eames can see the corner of his mouth fighting not to quirk up. He squashes the urge to kiss that forming smile as quickly as it appears.

“So,” Eames drawls, “what did you need me for? You certainly didn’t bring me back here to kill me.”

“That can be easily remedied,” Arthur deadpans. Then, more seriously, “This needs to stop.”

Eames doesn’t bother asking why, and skips straight to, “I’d rather it not.”

“Okay,” Arthur says. “Then I can shoot you and end it for you right now. Which would you prefer?”

Eames stares, trying to see if he’s bluffing. He’s not. “I’ll take the former.”

As Eames leaves, Arthur calls, “And Mr. Eames?”

Eames pauses, one hand on the door.

“Don’t look back.”

“Of course,” Eames says, lying through his teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> I had like, 100 extra words specifically describing the sandwich joint, which was when I realized how attached I am to filler. Then my editor brain AKA my shoulder-Arthur chloroformed me and then very systematically deleted every line with a scary amount of emotional detachment.
> 
> I'm rudimentaryflair on Tumblr.


End file.
